


With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept

by thestyleofsecrecy



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Bullism, F/F, M/M, References to Depression, School Shootings, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-07 06:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10354410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestyleofsecrecy/pseuds/thestyleofsecrecy
Summary: A normal day becomes deadly when a student brings a gun to Nissen. The characters we've come to know put themselves at risk to protect their friends and loved ones.





	1. The Last Straw

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic was inspired by One Tree Hill homonymous episode.

_Does this darkness have a name? This cruelty, this hatred, how did it find us? Did it steal into our lives, or did we seek it out and embrace it? What happened to us? That we now send our children into the world like we send young men to war hoping for their safe return, but knowing that some will be lost along the way._  
_When did we lose our way? Consumed by the shadows, swallowed whole by the darkness._  
_Does this darkness have a name? Is it your name?_

Aksel Nass had never been a popular kid, but he had a few good friends he always hung out with. Although he never excelled in school, he studied hard and never skipped class – unlike most seventeen-year-olds.   
One day, things changed.   
It was like a trip full of great experiences you can’t wait to tell your loved ones about but, when you come back home, you only remember the feeling of excitement and forget what you wanted to share with them, so you just move on. That’s what happened with his friends: they hadn’t had a falling out or a big fight, they had simply forgotten about him. They had moved on.   
Always walking the halls alone made him an easy target for bullies. Every day, when he woke up, he knew that something was going to happen in those halls: it might be his books being thrown out of his locker, or him getting beaten up. It made no difference. He just wanted to be left alone.  
Then his dad had left his family and moved to another city.  
Things got even worse when his grades started plummeting because of his depression.  
That day he decided that he had had enough. It was the last straw. He walked up the stairs of Nissen, invisible as always, and walked along the corridor that led to his locker. It took him a while to notice. His locker was held wide open, his books all wet.  
“Good luck cleaning that up!” shouted a jerk holding an empty bucket. His mates were surrounding him and laughing at Aksel, who looked at them, done.  
_This is it. This is my cue._  
Aksel, a terrified look in his eyes, took a gun out of his black leather coat. Looking at the bullies right in their eyes, he took a shot.  
He missed.  
Noora and Vilde had just walked up the stairs and were just about to open the glass door that separated the staircase from the corridor where the lockers were when they saw it. The bullet was heading their way. Unafraid, unlike Aksel, it shattered the glass in front of them and kept coming in their direction. They jumped back and threw themselves on the floor in an attempt to avoid the hit.  
That’s when everyone in the hallway understood what was going on and started screaming. Students started running in all directions: some hid in classrooms, some in the bathrooms, others ran down the stairs that Noora and Vilde had just climbed. The security alarm started ringing. There was no turning back.  
Aksel, unable to understand what had just happened even though he was the one who caused it, started following some students that were walking towards the media studies classroom.  
After he walked in, Even locked the door behind him. Everyone sat down on the floor in one corner.  
They were now in a tidy line, even _too_ tidy for the situation. Aksel was on the extreme left, followed, going right, by Magnus, Mahdi, Sana, Elias, Jonas and Even.  
Even, taking control of the situation and trying to calm down his schoolmates, whispered: “Don’t worry. We are safe in here. They can’t get to us.”


	2. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noora tries to escape from Nissen. On her way she meets two familiar faces.

Noora felt someone pick her up from the floor, urging her to run out of Nissen.   
So she did. Down the stairs and through the hallways, crossing the same places that just a few minutes before had seemed so quiet, but lively at the same time. Vibrant with laughter and chatter. She rushed through the front door, leaving the nightmare behind her. A hand blocked her, making her realise that she was still running, even though she was safe now. She sure as hell didn’t _feel_ safe.  
“Noora! What’s going on?!” Eva shouted, touching Noora’s shoulders and keeping her still. She had just put a _Starbucks_ coffee cup in her bag, a souvenir from another, happier time. Isak was next to her, wide-eyed and keeping his hands warm with coffee: they had just walked to school together.  
“There’s someone shooting inside!” Noora replied, looking around her and only now noticing the crowd of students running around, terrified. _There’s something wrong. Something’s missing_ , she thought, still shivering. Then it hit her. “Oh God, Vilde! I lost her… She was right behind me.”  
“Oh my God! Was she shot? Where did you last see her?”  
“I don’t think so… I don’t–“   
_Wake up, please wake up._  
“Fuck, Even,” murmured Isak, running towards the school door. Even had gone to school a little earlier than usual to finish up his project, that’s why he hadn’t walked to school with Isak and Eva.  
“Isak, stop! Don’t be stupid!” yelled Eva, but Isak’s mind was too set on the mission for him to listen, and he didn’t respond. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll get Isak and come back.”  
“Eva, don’t! There’s an actual shooter in there…” begged Noora, grabbing Eva’s hand to stop her from leaving.  
“I’ll be right back. I promise,” she whispered, and then ran off to chase Isak.

*********

Noora sat on the same bench they had sat on that time they had listened to Justin Bieber and she had made everything better for Eva. _Why can’t I make things better now? How could this happen? How could I leave Vilde behind?_  Her head was overflowing with questions that she wasn’t able to answer. She couldn’t make sense of the situation and this made her feel even lonelier. In the school courtyard, surrounded by hundreds of people, she still was alone.  
She felt tears starting to form in her eyes, but she choked them down. She couldn’t cry in public, not in front of _that_ many people.  
The police sirens caused her to turn her head sharply, sending her hair floating in the frosty winter air. She gathered a few strands in order to put them back into place and closed her eyes. _Wake up, please wake up. Just open your eyes and it will all be over._  
She opened her eyes.


	3. The Paint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isak wants to go find Even. Eva tries to convince him to go back outside, where it's safe.

“Isak, stop! We have to go back. It’s dangerous in here.”  
Isak was running up the stairs of Nissen when, just as Eva shouted these words, he stepped on something that made him shiver. It felt as if he had just bitten down on an ice cube. He was on top of the fragments of the shattered glass. He looked in front of him, right through the remains of the glass door. _This is where it happened_ , he thought.  
“Oh my God, Vilde!” Eva had squatted next to Isak and was now inspecting some pieces of glass. A puddle of blood was spreading all around them and it looked as if a painter had used the liquid to draw an uneven line, made up of uncertain strokes. The line led to the school library.  
“I’m sorry, Eva, but I can’t go back,” muttered Isak, his eyes still fixed on the blood. It had stained his shoes, leaving an indelible mark. _This is how this day will always be for us, isn’t it? An indelible, unforgettable mark…_ “Fuck, it’s Even! What am I supposed to do, wait around and do nothing?” He tilted his head up and looked at the girl with a terrified look in his eyes. He couldn’t imagine his life without Even, the one that truly made him happy and feel like himself, but also the fragile boy that he would have done anything to protect. _The man of his dreams_. They had already saved each other multiple times and Isak’s mind was set on doing it again.  
Eva sighed and put her hand on Isak’s right shoulder. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You go find Even and I’ll go look for Vilde in the library. Just be careful, okay?”  
Hearing her say that made Isak even more impatient and eager to go find Even. _We’re just wasting time. What if the shooter has Even? What if something has already happened to him?_  
Eva was saying something about how they would meet up there thirty minutes later, whether they had found their friends or not. But Isak’s head was too busy making up worst case scenarios to listen.  
He just hugged her quickly and, already rushing towards the skeleton of the door that separated him from his boyfriend, shouted: “I’ll be careful. I promise.”  
He ran through the hallway, leaving the girl and smudged footprints of red paint behind him.


	4. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even, with Sana's help, tries to elaborate a plan to escape.

The floor in the media studies room was cold. Even had taken a chalk from the teacher's desk and was now tracing some lines on the tiles.  
"What are you doing? Drawing?" Elias was sitting cross-legged, playing with the strings of his black hoodie. "Great idea. Let's sit around and doodle while the shooters are out to get us."  
"I'm not doodling. I'm thinking of a way out. Now shut up, you're distracting me.”  
If someone had looked closely, they could have noticed that Even had drawn a map of the school’s first floor. The entrance, the long hallway, the toilets and the classrooms were all correctly placed and it looked like an architect's project for a huge, articulated building.  
"A way out? There are people shooting out there. There's no way out. We're probably gonna die in here."  
Elias' rage made him jump back to his feet.  
"Sit down! We'll surely die, if you don't keep quiet." This time it was Sana who spoke. She hadn't said much in the half hour that they had spent on the floor.  
"You shut up! Okay? Those monsters are probably your friends, aren't they?" Elias was now wearing a big smug grin on his face and it didn't seem like he was going to shut his mouth anytime soon.  
Sana's expression said that she was feeling both hurt and ready to punch back. Even noticed it: he hated harsh comments on Islam more than he hated Elias and this made him particularly mindful of how Sana felt.  
"God, do you have to be so ignorant even on situations like this one?" he silenced Elias. Then, turning to Sana: "Come here. We're not listening to this jerk. I could really use your help,” he told her, looking at the plan in front of him.  
The girl, who was wearing her beautiful black hijab, moved close to Even, whispering: "You didn't have to do that. I can defend myself.”  
"I know. But I wanted to. And I felt like he was kinda offending me too, you know?" replied Even, with a look that made Sana understand perfectly what he was saying. "Besides, it gave me an excuse to call Elias a jerk..." The blue-eyed boy gave her one of his bright smiles, and it made Sana smile a little, too.  
"So, what were you thinking?" Sana was now seated right next to Even, staring at the map.  
"Hmmm... I was considering going out the school entrance, leaving from where we came, but the corridor where the shooter was is right in the crosshairs,” Even whispered, pointing at the path they would have followed if they had chosen plan A.  
"Yeah, and they are likely to go back where they started. Or they probably already left someone behind to check the main entrance.”  
Even nodded: Sana had just summarized all his greatest concerns. Or at least most of them.  
_Isak._  
But this wasn't the time to worry about him.  
_Not yet. First I have to help our friends. Then I'll go find him._  
The flowing of his thoughts was interrupted by Sana, for which the boy was extremely grateful. Even though he was trying not to think about Isak, his mind always seemed to circle back to him.  
"What if we went to the English classroom? It has huge windows,” noted Sana, and Even knew where she was going.  
"Yeah, maybe... Fuck, it would be much easier if we had our phones. We could just break the window and then call someone from outside to help us get down…” the boy had his index finger pressed on his lower lip and a pensive look in his eyes.  
The school regulations stated that whenever students were in the school for a project, the teacher had to collect their phones. The teacher had locked them in a drawer and had left to print some photocopies – and then, the shooting had happened.  
"So... that's it? We really are stuck in here, aren't we?" The girl was looking down at the plan, but the sadness in her eyes was still quite clear. She whispered those words, they were almost imperceptible, in order to not be heard by the others. Magnus, Mahdi and Jonas were still pretty calm, as if nothing scary had been going on, and if Elias had heard, he would have started talking again about how he was right. Even and Sana didn't need that. Not now.  
Just as Even was about to say something, anything to reassure his friend, someone knocked on the door and they all turned in the direction of the noise.  
"Don't you dare open that door, Even,” demanded Elias after Even climbed back to his feet.  
"What if it's someone who needs help? Do you want to be the one to throw them under the bus? I sure as hell won't be!" Even replied, ready to turn his back to the jerk and open the door. A student ID made its way through the crack underneath the wooden door. Even picked it up. _Isak Valtersen_ , he read. He was now grinning from ear to ear without even noticing.  
"What is it, man?" asked Magnus, walking towards Even just like the others were doing.  
"It's Isak. He's okay!" The boy's eyes were sparkling with joy. Mahdi, Magnus and Jonas laughed in excitement: their friend was okay, nothing had happened to him. Sana allowed her lips to form a small smile just before asking: "What are we waiting for? Even, open the door!"  
"Are you all crazy? Don't you see that it's the shooters trying to lead us out of here? They want us as hostages." Elias was now in front of Even and with poison in his mouth he added: "They probably have Isak."  
These four words made Even's heart sink. _Is he right? Am I only fooling myself? Am I living on false hope?_  
The only sure thing was that he wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he left Isak _behind._  
_I have to try. I have to at least try._  
He got close to the door, blocking out all the voices rising in the room: Elias' harsh words directed to Even, Sana's even harsher words directed to Elias, and the Boys' attempts at making the two reconciliate.  
In the chaos, Even got close to the peephole, just close enough to whisper: "Du er..."  
A voice on the other side of the door, which created two symmetrical worlds, completed the sentence.  
“… ikke alene."  
_Isak._  
Even turned the key in the lock and the door opened, revealing a smiling Isak. "God, Even. You re okay... Fuck, I was worried about you,” said the boy, breathless and relieved. He had had run through the school corridors to get here, to Even. He threw his arms around his boyfriend's neck and kissed him gently.  
_I'm home_ , thought Even, a big smile lighting up his eyes since his lips were already occupied. He then caressed Isak's curls, messy from the run, and added: “Good to see you, too.”  
Isak smiled and, moving his hands away from Even's neck to take hold of his left hand, he said: "I'm sure you’ve already thought of a plan, haven't you?"  
Even pointed at the drawing on the floor, now slightly smudged since Magnus accidentally stepped onto it.  
Isak laughed, whispering, "Of course you had to draw it" into Even's ear. The artist explained plan B in detail to the runner with help from the planner, who emphasized the fact that it was her idea.  
"That's when you come into action,” finished Even "We're going to need your phone once we get to the English classroom.”  
Isak smiled when Even explained why they couldn't use their phones and then they all agreed, even Elias, to execute plan B.  
Just as they were approaching the door, ready to taste freedom, something stopped them. Aksel, who had been quiet and almost invisible the whole time they had been in the room, pointed the gun at them and shouted: "Wait! What do you think you're doing? You're not going anywhere.”


	5. The Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eva goes to look for Vilde in the library.

  
Eva followed the traces of blood until they dramatically interrupted in front of the door of the library.  
_This is it. I’m one door away from finding out the truth._  
She took a deep breath and pushed down on the door handle. It was cold. As she let go of it, she still felt something staining her hand. Blood.   
The library was the same as always: books placed in order on the shelves, still in the snow storm. Eva fiddled with her necklace, intertwined in her freezing hands, as she walked next to the blood trail, that was starting to look more like splattered puddles than an actual line. She turned right after a bookshelf with a sign that read, “Norwegian Literature”.  
A shriek startled her.  
_Vilde._  
The girl, eyes wide open in shock, was lying on the floor. Her light pink jeans were soaked in blood right where the trend would have placed a tear: her left knee was injured.  
“It’s okay, Vilde. It’s me. It’s Eva.” She sat down next to her, caressing her long straightened hair and taking a deep breath of relief.  
“Oh my God.” Vilde burst into tears. “The shooter…” Her voice cracked.  
“I know, I know. But you’re safe now,” lied the redhead. She then asked permission to lift up the other girl’s jeans just enough to check the wound. “There’s a piece of glass in your leg,” she lied again. “I have to look for help.”  
Vilde took her hand just as she was about to walk away. “Please, don’t leave me here.” She looked around her, her eyes lost on the thousands of books around her. “I can’t be alone. Not again.”  
“You won’t. I promise.” Eva sat back at the injured girl’s left, still holding her hand.   
“Why don’t we talk about something else, huh?” She looked at Vilde with a smile on her face, trying to cheer her up. Her plan worked: as always, seeing Eva’s smile made Vilde follow her lead and do so as well.  
“Why don’t you tell me about a good memory?”   
The girl, no longer crying, nodded. “That’s easy. It was a cold day, just like this one.”  
Eva knew exactly what she was referring to. Hearing Vilde say that automatically made Eva take her orange jumper off and place it on the girl’s abdomen.  
Vilde carried on. “It was snowing outside, but I felt so warm somehow. It was one of the best days of my life.” The blonde girl adjusted the jumper, that was slipping away, to cover her forearm. “I laughed like I never had before, but most importantly it felt like home”.  
Vilde looked at Eva, her hair now tied in a loose braid, and added: “The girls were there.” She then looked Eva right in the eyes. Hers were shining. It was impossible to understand whether it was because of the tears from before or from her happiness at the recollection. “You were there.”  
_That day in the cabin_ , Eva thought, her mind taking her back to those moments. They had played boardgames, chatted, laughed. But one particular memory stood out. She had been sitting on the old couch that Chris said her grandma had bought at an antique shop. Vilde was lying down, head on her lap, her whitish blonde hair falling like a waterfall. She remembered thinking it looked so pretty and soft, thesis that had been confirmed once she ran her fingers through it. She had been so happy and a strange feeling had taken over. The same they were feeling in that exact moment. _Warmth_ , she concluded.


	6. The Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noora struggles with being the only one who escaped.

Noora sat on the bleachers steps in the gym, her mind troubled. Everyone had gathered there, just as the school rules demanded in case of an emergency. The police guarded the door, making sure no one had the crazy idea to get back into the school hallways. Parents were looking for their children, ready to embrace them once they found each other. Tears of joy were shed by those who, relieved to be alive and safe, were finally reunited with their families.   
Noora couldn’t have felt more distant from them. No one was there for her. _Of course_ , she thought, _mom and dad couldn’t jump on a plane to get here. They probably had more important things to do._  
Unlike the others, she didn’t feel safe, either. Not when her friends could still have gotten hurt or worse. The police had already interrogated her, but, just like when Eva had asked her about what happened, her shock had prevented her from giving precise informations. The analysts and the reporters were scattered all around, looking for an explanation that no one would ever find. _This is just fucked up, there is nothing else to examine or say._ Noora played with a loose thread in her white cable knit sweater, trying to think up something, a way to help her friends. She was very similar to Even in this sense: they were the ones who always tried to solve situations, the mediators.  
Someone talking in an excited voice captured her attention. Although she had seen some smiling students around her, nobody had a single excited fibre in their body. Except for her, a woman in a silk suit that looked like a reporter. “This is great: we’ll interview the mom of the shooter, his classmates. It’s going to blow up.”  
The reporter was sitting two steps above Noora and it seemed like she was skyping with her boss. Even though she was sitting, her enthusiasm made it look like she was jumping up and down.  
The platinum-haired girl felt a deep sense of disgust: she couldn’t just stand there and watch people make money off of someone else’s tragedy. Possibly her friends’ tragedy. She had always wanted to become a journalist, but she never thought of the profession that way. It was supposed to be a way to make the world a better place, or at least she thought so.   
She marched up the stairs and interrupted the compassionate talk. “What are you doing?”  
The woman, clueless about what Noora thought of her, asked, still in that thrilled tone of hers: “Are you one of the students that were inside?”   
Noora, a furious look in her eyes, responded: “I’m Noora Sætre, I’m the student council president…” The Girls had convinced her to take part in the elections that Fall, saying that she was always protesting anyway so she was the one for the job. They were right: she had won.    
She was just about to tell the reporter the opinion she had of what she was doing, but the woman stopped her. She had heard all she wanted to hear. “Oh God, this is wonderful! You’ll surely give us an exclusive insight into the shooting!” She grabbed her microphone, heading towards two cameramen and signaling them to start rolling. “I’m Christina Holt and I’m here with Nissen’s student council president, Noora Sætre. Tell us, how was it inside?”  
Noora couldn’t believe it. It all still felt like a nightmare. How could someone be so cruel?  
She kept silent for a moment, but then burst out: “You should be ashamed of yourselves.” Tears were starting to make her eyes burn, so she walked away. She went to sit cross-legged on the free-throw line drawn on the green floor. Christina Holt, persistent, the only shade Noora had seen of her, walked up to the girl with a pitiless expression on her face. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”  
Noora, who was following the line on the floor with her index finger, looked up at the woman in front of her.  
She continued: “Do you even know the shooter, Aksel Nass? Have you ever even talked to him?”   
Noora looked down, ashamed of herself. Once again, she had let herself down. She was the girl who fought for people, who told them to be nice to each other, but this time she had revealed her true self: she was a failure. She wanted to save people, but couldn’t.  
“Before judging people, you should take a good look in the mirror. You’re no better than anyone else.” The reporter left to go chase another student that hadn’t even been inside at the moment of the shooting.  
Noora walked out of the room, feeling smaller and smaller as the speed of her feet moving forward increased. She reached the exit door and pushed it open. She looked at the bench, at the courtyard where people used to chat lively. Everything started being blurry: she was crying. Hot, burning tears that came streaming down her face and made it impossible for her to see clearly. She wrapped her arms around a lamppost, using it to help herself regain balance. The courtyard was empty, so she let her emotions flow. She didn’t choke the tears, she let them stream down. For just this once, Noora Amalie Sætre let herself _feel._


	7. The Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aksel reveals the reason why he walked into school with a gun, leaving Jonas wrecked.

Aksel stood in front of the door, index finger shaking on the trigger.   
“Stop! What are you doing?!” asked Jonas, shocked. “We’re friends, man. Remember?”  
Aksel looked physically sick at the words. “We used to be. Not anymore.” He laughed hysterically, thinking back to his “friend’s” reassuring speech. ”Man?! We haven’t talked in months! Do you even know what I’ve been through? Have you ever thought about asking how I was feeling?”  
Jonas swallowed his guilt. Aksel was right: they hadn’t been friends in a long time. When they were freshmen, they used to hang out almost every day, playing guitar and going out for kebab. Isak had always been Jonas’ best friend, though, and after a while they’d just stopped bringing him along. Then they befriended Magnus and Mahdi, and the relationship with Aksel came to an end.   
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” Jonas never meant to hurt anyone. It just happened. Ugh, he hated himself: those were the words used by the ones who hurt people without a reason and didn’t even bother fixing things.   
“Aww, that’s so nice of you. You just made my day so much better,” replied the shooter, showing mixed feelings: his voice was sarcastic and sad at the same time. A soft fumbling sound made him turn his head. “What do you think you’re doing?!”  
His words were directed at Isak, who, hiding slightly behind Even, was using his phone. Aksel’s attention wasn’t at its best: Isak had taken out the phone moments before.  
The shaking hand gripping the gun moved left, aiming at Isak.  
“Woah, relax, man. I haven’t contacted anyone yet. Put the gun down.”  
“Calm down, Aksel,” said Even, shifting to shield Isak even more with his body and trying to keep his voice as firm as possible.    
Aksel didn’t even seem to hear what Even said. He just yelled: “Give me your phone, now!”, and then, with a hint of worry: “Did you contact anyone?” He hadn’t heard Isak’s words either. He was making less sense by the minute.   
“No, no,” Isak repeated, throwing his iPhone at Aksel, who caught it between his hands, still holding the gun. Jonas looked worried: the situation was bad as it was, they didn’t need his “friend” to start acting irrationally while pointing a gun at them.   
“Good.” Askel was sweating as he dialed 112 and threatened, “I’m one of the shooters. You get inside the school and we’ll start shooting hostages”.  
He put Isak’s phone on the desk to his left.  
“Now, you. Take this,” he roared, taking a roll of scotch tape from under the desk and pointing at Even. “You like art, don’t you?”  
Even had no idea of what this had to do with anything that was going on. Things were getting worse.  
“It’s time you show us your skills. Draw a line with the tape.” Aksel mimicked with his index finger what Even was supposed to do, his voice regaining its intimidatory tone. “You all stay behind it or I will shoot you.”  
“What are you doing?” asked Isak, worried. “This isn’t you, okay? You’re a good guy. This doesn’t make any sense.” Jonas nodded in agreement: Aksel was a good guy. Acting up this way, it just wasn’t him.  
“Shut up!” Aksel looked conflicted – if his expression was anything to go by, that was the first nice thing he had heard in months. He agreed too: this made no sense. He was on the verge of crying, pacing back and forth, gun still held tight. For a moment he really seemed to be rethinking the whole thing. But then he went back to being the shooter. He aimed the gun at Isak again, repeating: “Shut up. What do you even know about me, huh?”  
He looked more confused than ever, the gun being shaken all around in the air to emphasise every word. It looked as if he had forgotten that he was holding a weapon.   
This scared Even more that all of the awful things that had happened before. He hadn’t felt this terrified even when the gun was pointed right at his face. Aksel’s target was Isak, now, and the man holding the gun had lost it.  
“I’ll do it, okay? I’ll draw the line. Now stop aiming the gun at Isak, aim it at me, alright?”  
Even stepped a bit forward, just enough to trace the line with the tape in front of his friends. It gave him the chance to look at their expressions: Jonas, guilty, still couldn’t believe that what was happening was his fault; Isak, worried, took advantage of the fact that Even was squatting down in front of him to draw the line to run his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, as if to tell him, _At least we’re in this together_ ; Magnus and Mahdi, still, didn’t actually look like Magnus and Mahdi: they had their eyes fixed on the blackboard in front of them and they weren’t saying a word; Sana, pensive, her face showing that she was still thinking of a way out, a way to solve this, to make things better; Elias, disgusted, was staring at Askel, revealing that the situation wasn’t affecting his behaviour much.  
When he was finished, Even walked back to his place right next to Isak. They all sat down on the floor then, behind the line, and waited. They all put their minds to rest and realised that that was the only thing they could do now, wait.

*****

Silence reigned as Aksel paced back and forth, trying to figure out his next step. His mind was so set on thinking up something that he didn’t even notice Even getting closer to Isak to whisper in his ear, “You shouldn’t have come. You would be safe now, your life wouldn’t be literally on the line.”  
Even’s face got serious like it rarely did. Isak had only seen him like this once, when Even’s illness had told him to let go of Isak, that it was the best thing to do, it was the only way not to hurt him. Isak was determined not to let Even do this, not to let him give up. He wouldn’t allow for his boyfriend to be alone, not when he needed him the most. That was the reason Isak came to look for him.  
“We go through things together, remember?” He paused for just a moment before adding: “ _Minutt for Minutt._ That’s just the way it is. You’ll have to deal with it”, while playing with his boyfriend’s hand.  
 _Minutt for Minutt._ Hearing Isak say that always made Even smile: he had found someone who truly got him, who knew exactly when to do or say what he needed. Gently wrapping a strand of Isak’s hair around his fingers, Even kissed his boyfriend softly, as if to agree, _Yeah, at least we’re in this together._  
Their cute bubble burst when Asked stopped moving, frozen by Jonas’ questions.  
“Would you really do that? Shoot us?” he asked, vocal chords tangled in a knot of guilt.  
The shooter didn’t respond to that question, too overwhelmed by his “friend’s” teary eyes. The fact that everyone was staring at him didn’t help, either.  
“Did you hurt somebody, Aksel? Are there really other shooters out there?” Jonas kept the questions coming, hoping to hear negative responses to all of them.  
Aksel, finally finding the words, replied: “Does this look planned to you? Do you think this is the result of weeks of non-stop planning with other people?”  
Jonas was relieved: at least he had gotten one of the answers he hoped for.  
“You can go back, you know? You’re still in time. If you didn’t hurt anyone…” Sana’s words left everyone speechless just like they had before: she kept quiet most of the time, only saying what she had really thought through.  
A quality Elias didn’t have. “Go back?! You’re kidding, right?” He stopped briefly, surely not to think, but to show off his smug grin. “This monster is going to jail. I’m making sure of it.”  
Everyone was shocked: how could he be so insensitive?  
“What’s your problem, man? Shut up!” said Mahdi, as Magnus shook Elias’ shoulder vigorously, making Mahdi’s point even clearer.   
Sana kept silent for a moment, but her face said it all. Even noticed and murmured: “Go ahead. I won’t stop you.”  
“Of course you won’t,” she replied. She then turned to Elias, roaring: “How do you not get it? It’s because of people like you that we’re in this situation!” She fixed a furious stare on him. “You’re the monster.”  
For the first time that day, if not in his life, Elias kept quiet. He still wore his smug smile on his face, but at least he wasn’t talking: knowing that everyone was against him had that effect on him?  
The room went back to being flooded with silence. Even took the chance to turn the conversation back to Aksel. “Sana’s right: you can go back.” He swallowed, preparing for the next part of his speech. “I know that sometimes it seems like things can’t get better and that the world is just a dark place. Trust me, I know.” He paused briefly, caught by surprise by Isak squeezing his hand. He knew very well that Even had felt that way – just like he, and most likely everyone in that room, had. “But I also know that things do get better,” he added, his head turning slightly to his boyfriend to show off a cute smile.  
Aksel, who had looked pensive while everyone was talking, as if he were truly thinking through whether Sana and Even were right or Elias, walked towards the door and opened it.  
“You’re right, things can get better.”  
Jonas stopped breathing. Was it really happening? Was it truly over? Did he still have the chance to change things? To make them better?  
“But that has never been true for me. Things only get worse.” His voice started to crack at this point, like every word was being said by the tears in his eyes. “I woke up today with one thing planned. I’m not withdrawing. There’s no going back.”  
He walked out, slamming the door, leaving them there, Jonas’ heart sinking.


	8. The Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eva and Vilde comfort each other in the library. A few secrets are revealed.

Vilde and Eva were still lying on the floor in the library, a bookshelf used as pillow. Their bodies, like books fallen out of out their shelf, were the only thing out of place in the room. It surely didn’t feel that way to them: although Vilde was starting to feel a little bit numb because of the wound in her leg, and Eva was pretty worried about her, they couldn’t think of another place to be.  
“You know one good thing about this whole situation?” Vilde whispered, her sleepy voice revealing the pain she felt. Eva gave her a confused look. “Chris didn’t come today. I never thought I’d be happy about her being sick,” she said and then started laughing, Eva following her lead.  
Considering the circumstances, most would have asked themselves what was there to laugh about, but that's how it was with them. Vilde often worried about what people thought of her, asking herself  _Am I beautiful enough? Am I popular enough? Am I smart enough?_ , ultimately coming to the question,  _Am I enough?_  That changed around her friends. For a few hours, she found the courage to be herself, to put her mind to rest, not having to worry about the thousands of questions giving her a headache. She felt safe, simply by being her true self. This happened especially when she was around Eva. She had always admired how she had never given a fuck about what other people thought, finding the strength to get up whenever things got too much. Vilde thought that she could have never gone through what Eva had dealt with with Ingrid and Jonas. She felt that if something like that ever happened to her, she would curl up in a ball, not able to face everyone else's opinion of her. Being around Eva changed even that: she made her stronger somehow. That's exactly how she felt in that moment. It was the surplus strength she had gained from the minutes spent with Eva in the library that allowed her to do what she was just about to do. She just didn't know that that was going to happen yet.  
Vilde sensed her strength, though. So, still looking at Eva and with her pearl earrings matching the color of her bright smile, she interrupted their laughing by whispering, "You're always saving me.”  
Eva was caught unprepared by her statement, though, thinking about it thoroughly, she would have admitted that that wasn't actually true. Her pale skin flushed, Eva murmured, "No, I'm not.”  
Vilde held the redhead's hand, insisting, "Yes, you are." She could have thought of a hundred moments in which Eva had helped her, had colored some grey days blue. "First of all, we met with you saving me”, and here her smile got even brighter because of her green eyes sparkling with tears.  
Eva remembered that night very well. The mere sight of Vilde crying had made her sad and determined to help her. She didn't even know her and she had been having a bad night, but something had unlocked inside of her, making her do whatever it took to get Vilde back to smiling. She had in fact saved her. Even now it killed her to see her suffering, which showed as she gently wiped a tear that was streaming down Vilde's cheek with her thumb.  
Vilde's laughter came back, as she said cheerfully: "See? You're doing it right now." She then paused for a moment, swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth "There isn't just glass in my knee, is there?"  
Eva looked down, feeling overcome by failure. She had lied in order to keep Vilde calm, to not worry her. Eva wanted to soothe her pain, like she always did: as she had first examined the wound she had noticed a small object, that didn't look like a glass splinter. It was a bullet.  
Before Eva could apologize, Vilde sighed. "I'm scared, Eva…", her emotions coming to surface through her eyes.  
Eva ran her fingers through Vilde's blonde hair, that in the dim light of the library shone like optic fiber. Vilde slowly closed her eyelids, her mascara'd eyelashes showing off, as they created a soft shadow on her cheeks.  
Eva was worried she would fall asleep, but then she heard some words slipping out of her mouth, marked out by the drowsiness in her voice. "If I kissed you would you hold it against me?"  
She opened her eyes, revealing her green marbles.  
Eva's heart stopped, as she leaned in toward Vilde's nude-pink lips, made even more shimmery by the light that were her teeth. They met, Vilde's cheeks covered in cold tears underneath Eva's hands. They made shades of pink out of Vilde's lipstick Angel and Eva's Midnight, that mixed flawlessly, the new color they had created together making them both feel stronger.


	9. The Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aksel has to make his final decision.

Aksel wandered through the corridors, his head spinning with fear. Without knowing it, he ended up right where that awful day had started, in front of his locker. Still open and soaked in water, it was a reminder of Aksel’s hatred towards life. Something among the wet books got him down in the mouth. Unlike the locker, it wasn’t because it made him think about what he didn’t have (friends, a father that was around, scores high enough to get into the university of his dreams), but because of what he was just about to lose. Hope made things worse: it only put off the inevitable, the reason for that whole morning. It all originated from something pure and simple: a picture.  
Aksel was laughing with his mom on a picnic blanket laid out in a field, trees surrounding their happy faces. The far left end of the photograph had been torn. It was funny how his father had left a hole in his life, just like he had in the picture. It really wasn’t. Seeing his mom was like a punch in the stomach. When he was depressed she couldn’t do much, but it wasn’t her fault. She had gone through a lot, too. She tried, at least.  
Was this what he really wanted? Or was there something worth clinging to?  
Like he had been doing for the previous three hours, the boy started pacing back and forth, hands clutching the gun: as he had told Jonas, he hadn’t thought this whole thing through. His eyes focused on the floor, but really thinking about something else, he kept trying to convince himself that that was the only way.  
_I can’t do this anymore… Things won’t change, I can’t keep living on false hope…. I can’t live trying to be invisible so that people won’t punch me…. This is just how my life will always be….. There’s no turning back…_  
As he raised his head, he saw them. Eva, a frightened look in her eyes, was carrying a passed out Vilde in her arms.  
“What are you doing here?! Step back!” Aksel shouted, his eyes full of tears. His face resembled the locker now.  
“I’m sorry, Aksel.” The girl knew him from a very distant time, when she was still dating Jonas. “But she’s seriously hurt. I need to get her some help.”  
Aksel walked closer to the two, Vilde’s arms wrapped around the redhead’s neck. She didn’t have much time, Aksel knew that.   
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt her.”  
He looked at the girls, his eyes wide open with guilt. He was being truthful: there was only one person he meant to hurt that day and it wasn’t Vilde.  
“I know. I know you didn’t.” She paused for a moment, holding the injured girl tighter. “But you can still fix this. I can get her help. There’s still time.”  
Aksel nodded, showing the door to Eva, who responded with a smile tinted with worry. She struggled to open the skeleton of the door, having Vilde to look after, but she eventually made it. She was thankful that the girl in her arms didn’t have to look at it, at the shattered glass.  
Suddenly, Noora appeared through the remains of the glass.  
“Oh, what the hell! You, too??” Aksel was waving the gun in the air, overwhelmed. “I made myself clear: no one can get inside the school!”  
He went back to his locker, giving Noora the chance to whisper, “Go. I’ll take care of this.”  
Eva murmured a “be careful”, caressed the red-lipped girl’s shoulder, and left.  
Noora carefully moved towards the shooter, who, apart from the fact that he was pointing the gun at the girl, didn’t really resemble one anymore. He just looked like someone who was ready to give up.  
“Put the gun down, you can still go back.” Noora kept walking towards Aksel, one step forward for every word coming out of her mouth.  
“No, I can’t. Take a look around,” he sobbed, salty tears making his eyes swollen.  
“Yes, you can. Trust me, I’ve been where you are.” The platinum-haired girl took a deep breath, casting her mind back to the year before. “I’ve been through thinking that there was no going back, that everything that had happened to me was just too much.”  
Aksel held the gun firmly between the palms of his hands, his grip revealing his lack of experience.   
“I’ve spent days crying myself to bed and starving myself, thinking that I wasn’t good enough.” After her boyfriend had broken up with her, Noora had stopped living, believing that everything had been her fault. The same thing had happened after she thought that Nikolai had raped her, blaming herself for everything. “But all that pain, all that suffering you feel will go away…”  
“No!” Aksel tightened the hold on the gun, reluctant to put his trust in Noora’s words.  
“Yes, it’s not your fault. You’re not the problem,” she said, noticing that her speech was having an effect on herself, too. Everyone needs to hear that. And she was right: it wasn’t Aksel’s fault that his friends had left him, that his father had moved away, that people bullied him. Just like it wasn’t Noora’s fault that her boyfriend had never meant what he had told her, that he loved her, and that Niko had played with her emotions, turning her life into a nightmare.  
“You’re not the problem”, she repeated. “You’re the solution.”  
Aksel kept staring at her without saying a word, his cheeks red from crying.  
“When people give you shit, it’s not your fault: it’s theirs. There’s nothing wrong with you.” At this point Noora was close enough to Aksel to hear his laboured breath.  
“That’s why you have to cling onto the things that matter. And when it’s just too hard you have to find joy in the little things, like going for a walk or drinking a cup of coffee. Because one day it will get better.”  
Aksel thought about his mother, the moments they shared together, about the feeling he got when rain drummed gently on the window panes of his bedroom, he thought about his dream job, becoming a writer, that had motivated him through the first year of high school. His lips couldn’t help but form a tiny smile on his face, which was still streaked with tears. He put the gun down, taking a breath of relief, feeling the weight being lifted off his shoulders.  
“First, you cling onto hope.” Noora took the gun from Aksel as he handed it to her. “Then, one day, all of a sudden, hope will result in something concrete and that’s when you start living again.”


End file.
